Split ends
by phwee yami hobo
Summary: Ryou can't think of an idea, Bakura has an invasion of spilt ends and Seto needs his statue! RB (humor one-shot)


They will always be there, you and me, our footprints engraved in time, when the end of our lives come we will remain there, for ever and ever for all to see.

Ryou bit his lip and looked at the wet cement in front of him, well it wasn't really wet anymore, more of a mix between wet and dry; more wet though. Think, think, think; under all that luxurious white hair his brain was hard at work; little electric charges that formed his thoughts raced back and forth. The muses sat in their corner invisible to the world, laughing at the poor boy who could not grab the inspiration out of the air.

"Come on Ryou; think dammit" He tried glaring at the slowly hardening square – his big brown eyes narrowed in frustration-, he tried calming down and clearing his mind, willing and idea to come to him.

'Do ideas like cheese?' to bad he didn't have a mousetrap then he could put the cheese on it and catch…a mouse. Well this think part wasn't getting him anywhere. He pulled plastic wrap over the top of the small box, and made a mental note to mix the cement AFTER he thought of something next time. Blowing his fluffy bangs out of his eyes he pushed his chair backwards and tipped it back so it rested on only two of it's four legs and he was comfortably reclined, one pale arm was flung over his closed eyes. His room was temporarily hidden from his eyes, the off white walls faded to black, the mocking project, all of it faded to black.

After minutes like this Ryou instead of deciding on what he wanted to engrave in cement had come to the conclusion that: this was all Seto's fault. It was that stupid romantics idea to have their hearts forever engraved in stone…Stupid Seto, stupid romance movies that give Seto stupid ideas. He had been excited about it; as much as he refused to say it he was all happy about his latest idea. His 'wonderful' idea had included cement a huge solid marble sculpture of the blue eyes and a bunch of mushy fluff from his close friends. So he had sent some high quality cement so that each person could write a message in the drying cement and have it permanently sealed into a secret container in the middle of the statue. How his blue eyes had sparkled when he had said that; on second thought it was Mokuba who had to be blamed, Seto doesn't watch those movie all by himself, it was SO all Mokuba.

But stories aside he was still left here and the cement was very slowly drying, and still he could not think of a thing to say.

Bakura was downstairs watching television, his attention seemed at first glance to be focused on the glowing screen. But on closer inspection his eyes were crossed and looking at a strand of hair that fell in front of his vision, his eyes went unfocused and then narrowed, a single pale hand reached up the take hold of the offensive piece of hair. First there was silence, aside from the low chattering if the occupants of T.V. world and the muted rumble of Ryou music form upstairs; then the house was spilt by an ear-shattering scream.

Followed by a loud thump.

Ryou stared at the ceiling the back if his head resting on the floor, arms spread out beside him, having used them to take the edge off his fall. When Bakura had screamed Ryou had jumped lost his balance and went flat on his back. He closed his eyes and didn't bother to move, his feet were still in the chair and he looked rather amusing laying there on the carpet like that, Bakura didn't think so, he had run into the room not even a minute after the scream, eyes wide and wild, still holding a stray lock of his hair.

"My hair" he shrieked, holding it up, and looking at it critically again. Ryou looked at him upside down, he looked at the Bakura towering over him and sighed, still not moving he raised a single hand and beckoned the distressed yami closer. Obediently the former spirit moved closer, holding out the hair.

"…" Ryou examined the hair closely, and turned annoyed eyes on the owner of said hair, the yami ignored the look and gave his best pleading eyes.

"Fix it" he demanded, unconsciously puffing out his cheeks in a way that made him look younger then his light counter part. Seriously, raising yamis was more difficult then raising small children, did Yugi have this much trouble?

"Baku…it's only split ends, you'll live"

"They are ugly!" Ryou sighed, he was starting to get a headache from all this laying on the floor, and a yami temper fit was not what he needed right now, "fix them!"

"Fine, fine" Ryou got up, swatting Yami out of his way, he reeled form the sudden rush of blood to his head, throwing off his sense of balance; a hand shot out to catch him, he turned to thank his yami, but found the other trying to go cross eyed to inspect his hair again. "I guess you will need a trim then; we can do that tomorrow" Ryou righted himself and straightened his clothing.

Bakura wandered off to the other side of his room, having almost forgot about his hair at the current time. Bakura was very interested by what had kept Ryou busy for the last half an hour and came across the setting; decidedly blank slate.

"You're not done yet?" Bakura asked, a small smirk playing on his lips.

"You are?" Ryou who had righted his chair was giving his yami a sceptical look, what would he have written; a number of things passed though his head; each more vulgar or childish then the last. How could he have done this so quickly, Kaiba had plans for preserving these for a LONG time and he had given it that little thought?! Ryou sighed, he really did wish he could be as simple as his Yami; a child really, nothing more then a large, sexy, wild child.

"Of course, it's not like it's difficult or anything" Bakura said haughtily, clearly impressed with himself for his work, or lack thereof.

'Coming from the person who threw a fit about some split ends' Ryou thought loudly, openly scoffing the 'intelligence' of his partner. Bakura paled slightly and huffed some more.

"If a certain, non-artistic person doesn't want to see mine well then fine, I don't want 'smart' people looking at it!" Bakura turned and walked slowly out of the room.

"…Kaiba IS smart…" Ryou said blinking after the departed spirit. "Hey! Wait! You are smart too! So smart my smart, evil, sexy yami! Wait!" Ryou sprinted after the fuming ex-tomb robber; it seemed Bakura HAD waited- right in front of the staircase. One crash had sent them both tumbling down the stairs, there was a deafening crash and they landed in a heap on the landing at the bottom.

"owww" Ryou commented, groan muffled by his yami's leg, where his face was pressed against his yami's lower knee. Bakura tried to roll over to get up, but that didn't help much, Ryou was on top of him but the other's hair was under him, while Bakura's was just all over, like a halo under him, or a pillow; a very unsoft pillow but one none the less.

"Get offa me" Bakura moaned, he hurt in several places, dumb clumsy hikaris getting him in all kinds of messes; painful messes. "Are you okay?" Bakura sat up, raising himself into a sitting position; he looked at the pale boy now lying slightly dazed in his lap.

"oww" Ryou answered, it hurt a bit, but it wasn't to bad, where there was supposed to have been hard corners or floor when they fell there had been soft squishy Bakura instead, lessening the pain considerably.

"I'll take that as a yes" Bakura said helping the other off the floor, and arranging his clothing, his shirt had gotten all twisted around when they fell, he then proceeded to rearrange his hair as well, that was the next most important thing. When he was done he looked at Ryou again, there was a small bruise forming on one cheek and that was about it. "Time to move on then, no more running" Bakura scolded Ryou like he himself was often berated.

Ryou gave Bakura a sceptical look; this was his fault? No, no, no, it was clearly Bakura who had to stop right in front of the STAIRS! Ryou fumed but silently followed the spirit, lest he annoy the older one again and have him sulk away again; he was NOT falling down another flight of stairs. To the kitchen they went, and surly enough there on the table sat a familiar looking square, the cement still slightly wet, but unlike his in the soft texture had scratches in it. Ryou stopped and stared in awe at the beautifully craved words. The characters were clearly written all the lines smooth and elegant, flowing; there were small designs carved around the words making it look more like a beautiful poem on a soft piece of paper not carved into inch deep stone.

'The person I love, the dream I wish for,  
I merely shouted I wanted the thing I desired  
Higher, further, so my voice will reach you  
I scream and go crazy over you  
Until my voice dies!'

Ryou read it twice, it was unusual but it was pretty none the less, and he was quite sure that he couldn't do anything quite like this. But then there was that self-satisfied smirk on the other's face that he wanted to wipe away.

"So do you like it?" Bakura smirked and gave off an air that said he didn't care, that the work had meant nothing to him and he wouldn't care if it was criticized.

Ryou saw this façade for what it was and immediately dropped the idea of trying to deflate his other's ego. "It's beautiful," Ryou said softly reading the words over again, had Bakura really thought of that? It was so sweet and intelligent, two things he didn't normally incorporate with his partner. He smiled gently at the other boy, whose smirk slowly changed into a true smile and they stayed that way for a while, eyes saying things that mouths could never quite get across. Hearts connected at levels that those who have never found their soul mate could imagine, and then it just snapped and Bakura walked back into the living room, the couch calling him back. He settled into the little groove in the couch that reserved for him and for him alone. Ryou wandered the house for a little while after they had separated, some idea's starting to gather in his head instead of the resident dust bunnies. Soon they linked together to form sentences, and full thoughts, and then he lit up like a light.

"I got it!" he dashed through the living room, not even distracting a frowning Bakura who had remembered his hair and was now despairing over the sheer number of split ends, like an army come to ruin his beautiful hair! He ran into his room and pulled the plastic wrap from the container that he had held the cement in and taking out a long stick that wasn't quite flat on the end, it looked like a quill or a plaything that children used to play with dough with. Slowly he began to make lines in the cement those words forming into characters.

'Even in the eternal dark there will always be the light,

Never looking into the sun without the night,

You will never loose your way in the blackest hour just remember

Where there is one there will always be the other'

He smiled at himself signed him name at the bottom and quickly dedicated his poem to his beloved demon. Now it was worthy of being preserved, now it was worthy of being called his eternal proclamation of undying love.

The pieces were sealed up tight and the statute crafted around them, to be safe and hold their secrets for the rest of the writer's lives. On the base of the statute a mysterious inscription, the meaning known only to those who submitted a stone tablet.

"They will always be there, you and me, our footprints engraved in time, when the end of our lives come we will remain there, for ever and ever for all to see."

This is not mine; I do not own these characters I only play with them

I do not own this story either, I wrote this for the wonderful Saak-chan, go read her work she rocks; review and I will love you half as much as I love this wonderful author.

Hugs and kisses Phwee


End file.
